Here, Glorious _Hushai_, let me mourn thy Fate, Thou once great Pillar of the _Hebron_ State: Yet now to Dungeons sent, and doom'd t'a Grave. But Chains are no new Sufferings to the Brave. Witness thy pains in six years Bonds endur'd, For _Israels_ Faith, and _Davids_ Cause immur'd. Death too thou oft for _Judahs_ Crown hast stood, So bravely fac'd in several Fields of Blood. But from Fames Pinnacle now headlong cast, Life, Honour, all are ruin'd at a Blast. For _Absolons_ great LAW thou durst explain; Where but to pry, bold Lord, was to prophane: A Law that did his Mystick God-head couch, Like th'Ark of God, and no less Death to touch. Forgot are now thy Honourable Scars, Thy Loyal Toyls, and Wounds in _Judahs_ Wars. Had thy pil'd Trophies _Babel_-high, reacht Heav'n, Yet by one stroke from _Absolons_ Thunder given, Thy towring Glorie's levell'd to the ground; } A stroke does all thy Tongues of Fame confound, } And, Traitor, now is all the Voice they sound. } True, thou hadst Law; that even thy Foes allow; But to thy Advocates, as damn'd as Thou, 'Twas Death to plead it. Artless _Absolon_ The Bloody Banner to display so soon: Such killing Beams from thy young Day-break shot; What will the Noon be, if the Morn's so hot? Yes, dreadful Heir, the Coward _Hebron_ awe. So the young Lion tries his tender Paw. At a poor Herd of feeble Heifers flies, Ere the rough Bear, tusk'd Boar, or spotted Leopard dies. Thus flusht, great Sir, thy strength in _Israel_ try: When their Cow'd Sanedrims shall prostrate lye, And to thy feet their slavish Necks shall yield; Then raign the Princely Savage of the Field. Yes, _Israels_ Sanedrin, 'twas they alone That set too high a Value on a Throne; Thought they had a God was Worthy to be serv'd; A Faith maintain'd, and Liberty preserv'd. And therefore judg'd, for Safety and Renown Of _Israels_ People, Altars, Laws and Crown, Th'Anointing Drops on Royal Temples shed Too precious Showrs for an Apostates Head. Then was that great Deliberate Councel giv'n, An Act of Justice both to Man and Heav'n, _Israels_ conspiring Foes to overthrow, That _Absolon_ should th'Hopes of Crowns forego. Debarr'd Succession! oh that dismal sound! A sound, at which _Baal_ stagger'd, and Hell groan'd; A sound that with such dreadful Thunder falls, 'Twas heard even to _Semiramis_ trembling Walls. But hold! is this the Plots last Murd'ring Blow, The dire divorce of Soul and Body? No. The mangled Snake, yet warm, to Life they'll bring, And each disjoynted Limb together cling. Then thus _Baals_ wise consulting Prophets cheer'd Their pensive Sons, and call'd the scatter'd Herd.